


broken crown

by alstroemxria



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/F, F/M, Ilvermorny, M/M, Marauders Era (Harry Potter), Wizarding Politics (Harry Potter), Worldbuilding
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-02
Updated: 2021-01-23
Packaged: 2021-03-02 02:15:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 14,838
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23963719
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alstroemxria/pseuds/alstroemxria
Summary: Sirius Black was many things. A good son, he was not. As the heir to The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black, Sirius prided himself on his vast knowledge. He knew everything from dueling to potion making. But there was one thing he didn't know. He didn't know he'd start the Summer of 1975 confessing his love to Lily Evans. Ah, the beauty of love potions.Sirius's summer plans have gone from spending a week with the Potters to accompanying his family to yet another wedding. Along the way, he makes new friends, and comes to learn more about the wizarding world across the Atlantic.—Follows the Marauders‘ era at Hogwarts, starting from the summer before their fifth year and goes to the end of the First Wizarding War.
Relationships: James Potter & Lily Evans Potter, James Potter/Lily Evans Potter, Lily Evans Potter & Severus Snape, Orion Black & Regulus Black, Orion Black & Sirius Black, Orion Black/Walburga Black, Regulus Black & Severus Snape, Regulus Black & Sirius Black, Regulus Black & Walburga Black, Sirius Black & James Potter, Sirius Black & Lily Evans Potter, Sirius Black & Peter Pettigrew, Sirius Black & Remus Lupin, Sirius Black & Remus Lupin & Peter Pettigrew & James Potter, Sirius Black & Walburga Black
Comments: 4
Kudos: 28





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> I truly believe that they have done an injustice to the American wizarding world. As an American and an avid Harry Potter fan, I present to you my first ever fanfiction.
> 
> For the most part, it's canon-compliant. Small changes here and there. Most notably is the start of James and Lily's relationship. I've always found it odd that Lily and James starting dating in their Seventh Year and then got married later that year.

Prologue: The Beginning 

25 June 1975

"So, help me, Merlin.”

Sirius Orion Black never said that he was a good son. That thought hadn’t occurred to him for the last four years. He had more pressing issues to deal with like James’s obsession (or infatuation as he called it) with that foul-mouthed Evans. If Sirius was honest, he’d admit that he hadn’t expected that from Evans, the same girl who showed up every year to King’s Cross with a neatly pressed skirt. The Evans following her with the same look they likely had the first time they dropped her off – the awe twinkling in their eyes as robed families nodded at them, the pride that radiated off them when Evans was greeted warmly by her friends. Her sister tended to trail behind them, looking like she had dung under her nose, a scowl etched onto her plain face. Mind you, the girl wasn’t a lost cause. Though Sirius didn’t have much of an opinion on Evans, he wasn’t the type of person to lie. It hadn’t been lost on him that Evans was easy on the eyes. Her sister was less attractive, but in his opinion, she’d look way better without that sneer. Envy made you ugly, that was common sense.

Oddly enough, the mouth that Evans had on her reminded him of his mother, Walburga Black. The two could bond over how much they screamed at Sirius. Though he must admit that Evans had a much more colorful vocabulary. His mother would rather keel over and die than to repeat what Evans had said to him and James after a particularly disastrous prank had sent half the Slytherin house and a few Hufflepuffs to the infirmary. Sirius reckoned it had to do with her upbringing. Only Merlin knows what those Muggles teach their children. It couldn’t be anything good, seeing as Evans would rather spend time with that greasy, little snake that was Severus Snape.

When James first started pursuing her, Sirius was sure that she’d come around and accept his offer to Hogsmeade. He hadn’t expected the nasty Bat-Bogey hex that came flying at James’s head ten minutes later. Though after speaking to Marlene McKinnon, who witnessed the aforementioned proposal, it hadn’t surprised him. He loved James. Brothers to the end. But Merlin was that boy thick. And Moony thought Sirius was thick for purposely antagonizing his Mother. It was one thing to do it on purpose, but what had James expected after the first few words that came out of his mouth were: “thought that greasy snake was never going to leave you alone.”

Sirius gave it a few more months before Evans finally caved. Then finally, James would stop redirecting forlorn schoolgirls to him. The attention didn’t bother him, in fact, it felt wonderful to be doted on again. A quick snog was one thing but trying to slip love potions into his pumpkin juice was something entirely different. There’d been five attempts in just one month. His Father had warned him, speaking out of experience, but much like everything else that his family told him, it went in through one ear and came out the other.

Sirius rarely let down his guard. First, there was Snivellus to consider, the greasy bat who never missed the opportunity to hex either him or James. Last time Snivellus caught him off guard, Sirius spent three hours with Madam Pomfrey, who dealt with the modified curse that enlarged his head. It suited him, or so Regulus said to him while James scrambled to keep his head from hitting the ground. Could have broken his neck.

Then there were the girls. Too many to remember if Sirius was honest. Packs of giggling girls who snuck glances at him whenever Sirius was in a five-meter vicinity. Pure-blood heiresses sent by their mothers to reel him in with their talk of high society. The debut of another Greengrass. The failed courtship of the Bulstrode girl. It could be any one of them, who tried over and over to entrap him with love potions and enchantments they found in _The Modern Witch’s Guide to Finding a Respectable Wizard_. If Sirius ever came face-to-face with that awful Skeeter woman, he swore on his magic that he’d wring her neck for all the trouble she’s caused him.

Then there was the incident. The incident that had put him in St. Mungo’s four hours ago. He blamed James. On the way back to London, tucked safely away in their compartment; Moony had fallen asleep against the window, while Peter ate through a stack of chocolate frogs, hoping to find Beatrix Bloxam’s card. Sirius had been entranced by James who filled his head with plans. Spending an entire week with the Potters, while his family attended yet another engagement party. Quidditch at the Potter estate. Summer nights of sneaking out to slum it with Muggle teenagers.

Someone had finally succeeded. Sirius had to acknowledge that whoever had done it was exceedingly clever. They must have spent weeks watching them, or how else would they have known that Moony hated American chocolate. Too sweet, it aggravated his finely tuned senses. They knew that only one person in their pack of friends would eat it. Of course, Sirius would take it, anyone close to him could attest to the damned sweet tooth he’d gotten from his mother. He had happily eaten it without a second thought, but the worst of it all didn’t come until after they were in London. Nothing seemed amiss. Moony thumping him in the head when Sirius shouted into his face to wake him. James slinging his arm over his shoulder when they made their way out to the platform. Peter quickly hopping off to find his mother, who seemed to grow thinner every time Sirius saw her.

He’d reluctantly shrugged off James’s arm when the sight of Walburga Black’s disapproving scowl grew too much to bear. Sirius could handle her, after all she was his mother. But James, the same James who couldn’t comprehend the idea of a mother rejecting her own child. He wouldn’t be able to take it. So, Sirius did what he was best at – smiling goodbye to the Potters, a grin at Moony, a reassuring nod at James, then trudged back toward his Mother, who stood in all her blue blood arrogance, next to his Father. Sirius’s reflection, albeit slightly older, grey just beginning to pepper his finely combed black hair. Regulus had already found them, he stood there, behind their Mother (typical Sirius had snorted) staring unabashedly at a Muggle family, dressed in denim and oversized shirts. What a sight compared to his family dressed in their elegant, properly fitted robes. His Father had just greeted him when it happened. It felt like cold water had washed over him, drowning his senses until there was only one thing – person – he could think about.

“I think I’m in love.” Those were the first words out of Sirius’s mouth. Regulus whirled to face him, mouth wide open with amusement, but it was hard to ignore the alarm written all over his face. But it was his mother that Sirius was watching. Her scowl had deepened, deep furrows nestled between her eyebrows, she likely thought it was another one of his ill-conceived stunts to irritate her.

“I’m in love.” Sirius firmly said with conviction. This time he was sure of it. “I want to spend the rest of my life with her.”

“With who?” Regulus cautiously approached him, peering up at him to look Sirius in the eyes. “Sirius, who are you supposedly enamored with?”

“It’s not supposedly,” Sirius snapped loudly, turning toward his baby brother. He still towered over him, no matter how much Regulus ate. “I am in love!”

“With who?” But by then, the two quarrelling Black brothers had drawn the attention of nearby bystanders. Even James who’d been halfway through greeting Moony’s father turned to him. Confused hazel eyes behind those round frames.

“Piss off Reg.” He’d felt very much attacked by his father’s piercing glare. What did that prat know of love? Sirius doubted that Orion Black had ever had any love for Walburga Black. “James! James! Where are you James! I need your help! You’re the only bugger that I know who’s taken rejection five times like a champ.”

Amused stares from a nearby group of girls. A chortle from behind him. They weren’t who Sirius was looking for, but then again, who was he looking for?

“Vance?” Sirius mumbled. “No, it can’t be. Chittock? No, that’s not right either. MacDonald?! McKinnon?! Meadowes?! Jenkins?! Dearborn?!”

His head was splitting in two. It was so utterly painful that Sirius could hardly stand up straight. It was as if the world was spinning around him like he had downed two bottles of fire whiskey. But what amused him was the concerned look on James’s face when he hurried over, barely managing to keep Sirius from collapsing.

“Who is it?” Sirius groaned, sinking further into James’s arms. “I don’t remember who it is! Who is it! James, tell me who it is! Who am I in love with?”

“Sirius!” They were calling his name from all directions. Was that his mother digging her nails into his arm? What a scene they must be causing for the whole wizarding world to see. Sirius wondered if that would make the society’s page in the Daily Prophet tomorrow. It wouldn’t be the first time that they wrote about him. Pain overtook his thoughts again. Sirius needed to think it through – who was he in love with? It shouldn’t have been that easy to forget the love of his life’s name, or face for that matter. It had to be a Gryffindor. Sirius would never bother himself with a Slytherin. Too uptight for their own good. Everything was about purity with them. Blood purity. Purity until marriage. Blah! Prudes were always the wildest in bed. At that thought, Sirius burst out laughing. Ah, the Black madness finally took him. He roared in laughter until he could hardly breathe. Tears filling his eyes. It stung. Everything stung. Where was his love? Had she already left him? Why would she do that so suddenly? Had he not offered her everything he had?

Or had his mother done something to her? He wouldn’t put it past her. A hex. No, it must be some Dark curse dredged up from one of those ancient books in the Black library. Fury filled his gut. It burned. All these emotions leaving him even more confused. “You damn harpy, you must have done something to her!” Sirius shouted, struggling against whoever’s arms were holding him.

“What have you done to her?” Now, Sirius couldn’t see. It was all a blur. “I knew you were a terrible mother, but I didn’t think you were capable of this!”

More students filled the platform, making it almost impossible to breathe. He’d never find her in a crowd this large. He tore at the arms of his captor, roughly swiveling his head, looking through the sea of confused faces. For a moment, Sirius thought he saw Snivellus snickering at him. By his side, Evans stood watching him. A bewildered look overtaking her delicate features as if he had gone mad. Evans. Evans. Evans! It was Evans!

Of course, it had to be Evans! Evans with her fiery personality that matched her hair. Those green eyes had entrapped him from the moment they’d met all those years ago. Why hadn’t he noticed until now? Perhaps, his loyalty to James had prevented him from seeing the truth. The truth that Lily Evans was the only girl Sirius Black would ever marry. But wait! Sirius’s mind grinded to a halt. He had so much competition. There was James. And Snivellus. And who knew how many more had been enchanted by his Lily! Sirius growled at the very thought that his Lily would choose someone else besides him. To hell with Potter! Sirius was a Black! And he deserved the best. Sirius needed to do something now! He had to keep Lily for himself! Lock her in Grimmauld Place? No, she’d leave the second that his mother opened her mouth. Flee to America? That had promise.

In a moment of clarity, Sirius could see everything – his mother, emitting pure fury, while she barked an order at Kreacher; his father watching with cool indifference as if it were Sirius’s fault, and Regulus who had taken James’s place of holding him up by the waist. To the side, Remus had joined James, watching in complete disbelief. Mr. Potter waving a hand in his face, reassuring Sirius in a calm voice that everything would be alright. Then it was gone. It left as soon as it came. Sirius threw himself to the ground, taking his brother with him. They hit the concrete with a loud smack. Regulus let out a loud yelp as Sirius landed on him. Before anyone could grab him, Sirius dug his elbow into Regulus’s stomach, balancing himself before taking off in one long stride. A hand grabbed at him. Another grabbed at his robe. But he shoved them aside, knocking down a few first years who were standing in his way to his beautiful Lily. That was all it had taken for the crowd to split – no one wanted to be mowed down by a deranged Black.

The pain grew even more. His lungs were burning. There she was! The light of his life. The flower of his garden. Snivellus stepped forward, the amusement gone from his face, his hand reaching for his wand that was in his robes. Without a thought, Sirius took Snape by the shoulder, putting all his strength into shoving him away. Sirius thought he heard a groan; had he thrown Snivellus into some unsuspecting family? No matter.

Lily Evans in all her glory stood in front of him. Her family stood there by her side, even that horse-faced sister of hers, whose eyes were wide open. It was good that they were here, Sirius thought to himself. One less thing he had to worry about.

“Lily, my love, I’ve finally found you!” Sirius bellowed, teetering on his feet out of excitement. “My dear, dear Lily! You’ve been away for far too long! How I’ve missed your eyes, the color of fresh-pickled toad. Your hair, the color of passion that fills my heart.”

“Black, have you finally lost it?!”

Sirius turned away from her to face the Evans, his future-in-laws. “Mr. Evans. Mrs. Evans. I have nothing to offer but my heart. I swear to you that I will make Lily the happiest woman to have ever existed. Of course, if you’ll let me have her.”

Grim faces. Never a good sign. But Sirius would elope if he must, just like Cousin Andromeda. Their love would conquer all. “Lily, please know that I have loved you since the moment I met you. You are the reason I live,” he knelt. His head throbbed. “Please marry me, Lily Evans! You’re the only woman I want to spend the rest of my life with. I want you to carry my children. I’ll give up everything for your love. Everything! The Black title- “

Everything went black.

When Sirius finally awoke, he was in a white, sterilized room. At first, he lay there, not fully realizing what had happened. Had Snape sent him to St. Mungo’s? What curse had he used this time? But it slowly came back to him, leaking through like a broken cauldron. Oh Merlin. What had he done? That was the beginning of a terrible summer holiday.


	2. memories

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did I finish this chapter in June, only to save it under a different name but not know about it and then have a little breakdown because I thought I lost almost 30,000 words? Did I then rewrite the chapter, just to discover the old draft and then have to break it down because it was too long? 
> 
> Yes, I did all of the above.
> 
> edit: it was only after i posted this that I realized that Arcturus Black didn't die until 1991. My bad, so I changed a few details.

**ONE YEAR EARLIER**

**12 Grimmauld Place, London**

_Sirius,_

_Often, I lie awake trying to forget about you, but I am always brought back to the first day that we met on the train. Without you, my world would be shrouded in darkness as if no color had ever existed in the first place. How I long to hear your laugh again, that cackle that resembles the sweet melody of a flock of squawking hippogriffs. Truly, your presence is like the sun on the rainiest of days, and the very thought of you fills me with an indescribable joy._

_I wish to express these feelings in person, so nothing would please me more than for us to meet. How does this Saturday at noon in front of the Leaky Cauldron sound? I will wait there as long as I must to see your handsome face again._

_Also, please give my regards to your parents. They are such wonderful people that I can’t wait to make their acquaintance one day._

_Yours Sincerely,_

_Jane P. Otter_

Stifling a laugh, Sirius reread the letter over and over again until the words were engraved in his memory. It was ridiculous that this was all it took to get past the hawk-like eyes of his mother. Acting like some love-sick girl with less of a spine than his brother had actually worked! He grinned to himself as he thought of James hunched over his desk, penning a letter that would make even Evans flush a pretty shade of red. Never underestimate thy enemy. As a child that had been the first lesson under his mother’s strict hand, yet she failed to live by it herself.

Before Hogwarts, in a time when he sported that awful shade of green with pride, Sirius spent the majority of his summers locked away in 12 Grimmauld Place, tormenting whichever stiff tutor his father sent his way, usually with Regulus by his side until the smaller boy scrambled away like a mouse at the sound of their mother’s impending fury. It was either that or he’d be dragged by the ear to another party with his family. He could still remember it like it was yesterday – galas filled to the brim with gleaming Ministry workers, all of them eager to sink their claws into his father’s pocket; tittering debutantes greeting his mother out of reluctant courtesy. It was an unspoken truth among high society that it wouldn’t bode well for them, or their interests to make an enemy out of the united front that was Lord and Lady Black.

Those parties were by far the worst. Though as rare as they were, the only Black who hated mingling and small talk more than Sirius was none other than Lord Black. It didn’t matter how much his mother scowled and stomped her foot like a petulant child, which of course, all occurred in the privacy of their own home – Orion Black had a strict three-hour policy. That was all the time he granted to the likes of Abraxas Malfoy, or Aunt Lucretia, or anyone else who had the gall to approach him.

While his father sat with a displeased frown, listening to the babbling of fellow partygoers; Sirius would wander around with a forced smile, the well-behaved heir sent off to play with his future business associates. Vassals would grasp his shoulder with fake smiles, flutes of champagne in their other hand, and they’d make innocent inquiries into his father’s recent acquisitions. Overzealous mothers would not so subtly nudge their equally insufferable daughters toward him. He’d grit his teeth through the whole ordeal, suppressing a groan as Andrew Mulciber followed him around with a glint in his eye. He had no interest in making friends with any single one of them. His only solace was Regulus, who spent most of the party with his nose in a book. Only Merlin knew where Regulus hid, only choosing to reappear when it was time to go home. The little wonders that befitted the spare.

When Regulus was still too young to attend (left at home with their stoic governess), Sirius would cling onto his mother, refusing to be sent off into the pit of snakes. Surprisingly enough, his mother would indulge him and when unfamiliar faces peered down at him, he’d bury his face into her skirt. The other ladies would coo at the sight while Walburga Black swelled in pride whenever the topic of his accidental magic was brought up. He liked it that way as the only people who dared to approach his mother were sharp-tongued socialites. No one paid much mind to Sirius, at least not while there were more pressing matters to discuss like Victor Fawley’s recent engagement to some ditzy social-climbing French witch. However, the day came that his father with a less than gentle push, left Sirius to his own devices.

Of course, before the sorting scandal, he’d found a safe haven in the form of Bella, or sometimes Cissy, whoever looked particularly menacing in their midnight blue dress robes. More often than not, it was Bellatrix. It was the wild gleam in her eye whenever whispers spoke of the dark wizard gaining influence in the north. She’d listen with intent and laugh unabashedly whenever someone whispered that the Ministry was closing in on him. As for Cissy, she’d perfected the role of a dutiful daughter and unlike her sister, she how to play the game that were those uncomfortable tea parties that left Sirius tugging at his collar because the tension was so thick that he could feel it suffocating him.

He used to look on in wonder as Narcissa smiled coldly, or could it even be described as a smile; it was so unnatural that it never failed to send a shiver down his back. She cared too much whereas Bellatrix never cared enough to even try. It was no wonder that Bella with her less than impeccable manners, was his mother’s least favorite niece, or was her least favorite. Andromeda had snuck off with the title not too long ago. It all came back to Andy – the looming anger that hung in the air, the scorched mark on their family tapestry, and the reason that Sirius was now a prisoner in his own room.

“Regulus. Regulus.” He called out, resting his forehead against the door. “I know you’re there. If you’re purposely ignoring me, I’m going to throw you off the Astronomy tower.”

Sirius huffed impatiently before a voice rang out from the other side of the door. “Shut up! Do you want mother to come up here? And for your information, it’s not my fault you’re stupid. If you’d stopped and listened for once in your life, then none of this would have happened.”

“How was I supposed to know that Andy was getting married?”

He listened to Regulus nervously shuffle before letting out an exasperated sigh. “I didn’t know my expectations for you could sink any lower. How could you not know? That’s all anyone’s been talking about for the last week. And how’d you not notice Aunt Druella?”

“Well to be fair,” Sirius drawled, leaning back. “I never pay too much mind to her. She’s always like that in some way or another.”

“Why of course! Aunt Druella crying in our parlor is just an everyday occurrence.”

“We both know that someone crying isn’t exactly strange in this house!”

Sirius sat there in silence as his brother let out a groan and stomped off to his own room. How was he responsible for that day? The day that they didn’t speak of anymore. The day that Uncle Cygnus told his mother had been the same day that Sirius dozed off in a nearby park. It was so peaceful that he couldn’t help but close his eyes just for a second.

Now that he thought about it, it’d been way too easy to slip past his mother’s radar. What he didn’t know that day was that his family had been far too busy with Andromeda’s ceremony to even spare him a thought. His mother had wanted to blast her off the family tapestry the moment that Uncle Cygnus arrived empty-handed that morning, but Aunt Druella had begged her to wait a little longer. For some reason, they hadn’t given up on the hope that Andy would come back. It was ridiculous that they genuinely thought Andy would have some sort of epiphany and leave poor Ted Tonks at the altar. Even after the ceremony ended, they hoped she’d come to her senses, or that was until word got back to the family that Andy’s dress looked a tad bit tight on her.

He wasn’t lying when he claimed to have not known. Sirius hadn’t seen Andromeda since way before she even left, but no believed him. So here he was, locked away in his room like a princess in one of those muggle fairytales. The only living thing he’d seen this month was Kreacher who left him a tray of food three times a day. A week into his solitary confinement, he’d shimmied down a pipe alongside his window. Half-way down, he’d almost slipped but soldiered on because his feet almost touched the ground. What he hadn’t noticed was his father’s eyes. He had just gotten home to witness Sirius climb out the window, and it amused him so much so that he let him slide down that pipe. It wasn’t until Sirius turned around to scamper down the street that he saw his father standing there with a bemused smirk. “And where do you think you’re going?” His father asked innocently.

After his failed escape attempt, that foul house-elf who seemed to bask in his suffering was tasked with watching over him and keeping him from doing anything particularly stupid like jumping out the window. Not that he didn’t try to fling himself out the window. He did, multiple times if he recalled correctly. He was sure that his magic would safeguard him from anything worse than a broken leg, but each attempt ended with him being thrown back onto his bed. Though Sirius knew that Kreacher wanted nothing more than to throw him against the wall. Maybe he’d crack his skull open, and Kreacher’s future master would finally be Regulus. Just thinking about it annoyed him to no end.

However, it wasn’t till that fateful Sunday morning when his mother came storming up the stairs; the sound of disgruntled ancestral portraits being woken up, the soft creak of Regulus’s door as he peeked through a slight crack, and her stomping footsteps that seem to echo through the entire house. The door slammed open, and grey eyes widened at the sight of Sirius tying scavenged bedsheets together, the propped-up window, and then all hell broke loose.

_“YOU INGRATE! WE’VE GIVEN YOU EVERYTHING! AND THIS IS HOW YOU THANK US? I SHOULD HAVE BROUGHT YOU HOME THE DAY YOU WERE SORTED INTO THAT FILTHY HOUSE OF BLOOD TRAITORS AND MUDBLOODS! I SHOULD LET YOU FALL TO YOUR DEATH!”_

Hearing people scream bloody murder at 12 Grimmauld Place was not strange in it of itself. Truthfully, it’d be far more suspicious to hear nothing. If that day ever came, which Sirius seriously doubted, it likely meant they were all dead.

When his mother had burst into his room, he’d been half-way through making his makeshift rope with bedsheets he’d smuggled in during his bathroom breaks. He had every intention of lowering his truck and then climbing down that pipe again. The original plan was to escape and then make his way to Potter Manor, but unfortunately, nothing went right.

She’d shrieked again and the piercing throb in his temple only intensified as his mother’s shrill voice grew more hysterical. Her pale hand lunged at him, grabbing him by the back of his collar as Sirius enacted his final escape attempt. He’d nearly succeeded in hurtling himself out the open window, but he stopped a few inches short when his mother clung onto him. He’d expected her to pull out her wand and finally make do on her promise to use the Cruciatus curse. What he hadn’t expected were for her fingers to burrow themselves into his shirt as she held onto him for dear life.

Sirius would not leave this world unscathed if anything happened to his mother. No matter what she did, he would never lay a hand on his mother. Even further than that, he would never raise his wand toward her. Not as long as Orion Black breathed on this planet. How could he forget those impassive eyes that always seemed to wrangle the truth out of him ever since he was a boy? The smile that bordered on cruel whenever things went his way and if they didn’t, then his father would make it go his way.

He was no fool, no matter how much he acted like one at school. He’d heard the stories about the incident with the Malfoys. Only pure luck had permitted them to incur the wrath of the head of The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black, and, still somehow live to tell the tale. Sirius often wondered if the catalyst for Lucius Malfoy’s pursuit of Narcissa had been the lingering animosity between the two houses. How clever of Malfoy, almost too clever if you asked Sirius. It was likely the doing of that old cad, Abraxas Malfoy. To smooth over an almost twenty-year-old grudge with an unholy union was ingenious. He didn’t expect anything less from those upstarts.

However, Sirius had only seen his father truly enraged thrice in his lifetime. Though he’d had never been the subject of said fury, Sirius had learned to recognize it by the slight twitch in his father’s jaw. While his mother’s fury was explosive, and could probably be heard down the street, his father’s anger was slow and simmering until it lashed out and burned you so thoroughly that there was no hope for salvation. So, if anything happened to his mother, Sirius might as well dig his own grave. There was no doubt in his mind that his father would have his head mounted by noon alongside those dreadful house-elves.

So, in an act of self-preservation (a rare occurrence, for sure), Sirius had let himself fall onto the hardwood floor with an unforgiving thump. From right behind him, his mother came tumbling onto him with a shout. That was the day he realized that no matter how much his mother screamed at him until tears of anger ran down her face, she was predictable. Sneaking off resulted in no dinner that night. Mouthing off usually ended with a slap to the face that didn’t hurt him except for an uncomfortable sting. Unlike his mother, Orion Black was an unknown variable, the man rarely intervened with his punishments and so Sirius didn’t know what to expect from him. But that day, it was made abundantly clear whose idea it was to starve him. The small bruise on his mother’s hand cost him five days’ worth of meals. A _small_ price to be paid for his indiscretion, so Sirius concluded on the floor of his bedroom as he was deprived of food on the first day.

As for today, today was the third day of his punishment. Courtesy of his father, Sirius was forbidden from opening his curtains to let in the sunlight, apparently, it was easier to break down someone’s spirit if their sense of time was skewed. And so far, it was working, it made everything so surreal and the only reason that Sirius knew the date at all was because of Regulus who made it a point to mock him whenever he passed by on the way to his own room. The little snake only had courage when there was a door between them.

Listening to his stomach grumble again, Sirius distracted himself by emptying out his trunk of old quills, torn parchments, and even the occasional love letter. It seemed like an hour had passed when he first devoted himself to peering under the door. Hopefully, Regulus would take pity on him. They were brothers after all, and Sirius didn’t think that Regulus hated him as much as he claimed to. So maybe, just maybe he’d sneak Sirius something out of the kitchen. It didn’t have to be much; Sirius would be content with just a slice of toast.

He gave up after another hour passed, and that’s when he saw the bottom of Regulus’s feet sneak quietly past his door. So much for blood is thicker than water. His father had finally gotten what he wanted – Sirius was exhausted, and the smell of roasted turkey that wafted under his door only made the pain in his stomach grow even more unbearable. Everything was terrible and at the end of the day, he only had himself to blame.

Then he heard it, and it sounded so magical to his ears. The footsteps on the stairs that creaked at the slightest movement. Quiet ones at first, followed by louder, heavier ones. Was he hallucinating it? Surely, it must be a figment of his imagination.

“No, I told you this before.” A voice said, just outside his door and Sirius sprung up and tried to peek through the small crack again. “Walburga, don’t you dare open that door. For once in your life, leave it alone.” There was deafening silence and Sirius held his breath. “He’s to become the head of this house, yet you indulge him at every turn. How can you still try to coddle him after the stunt he pulled? Your precious whelp made his decision, so let him live with the consequences.”

There was another silence, then an affronted gasp. “How dare you speak to me like that? That so-called whelp of mine is still your heir. Do you think I don’t know what he does in that filthy house of blood traitors? I told you that he would only get worse if we left him there, but you refused to listen to me. Now, you must live with your failures. Let me through lest you want him to starve to death.”

“Starve?” His father laughed incredulously. “Have you finally lost your mind, woman?”

“Yes, starve. Are you unfamiliar with the concept?”

“You must be joking. It’s been a few days; it’ll take more than that to kill him.”

A few days, well it hadn’t felt like that. Time didn’t flow normally anymore – one day ended and then next began just as quickly, the days blended in on to each other until it became an incomprehensible tangled mess of time. One way to tell the time was to wait for Regulus to scurry past his door, his baby brother followed a meticulous schedule and it only took Sirius about a day to figure it out. Another way was to peek under the door and try to see the little flash of light that came in through the corridor window. Once, he’d fallen asleep on his floor and woken up to pitch darkness. 

“He’s still a boy,” his mother argued. “A bumbling fool of a boy, but still a child, nonetheless. We agreed that I would be in charge of him.”

“A child? He’s nearing fifteen, he’s no child. Your father couldn’t control your brothers, but I refuse to let that insolent boy run us as he so pleases.”

As they continued to argue, the excitement he’d first felt hearing his mother defend him quickly faded as the two began to discuss what a failure of a son he was turning out to be. Sirius listened as the two became more heated, and his mother’s voice rose to the point he buried his face into his arms. Perhaps, if Pollux Black had known how to properly discipline his children then Uncle Alphard wouldn’t be such a free-loading twit, and Uncle Cygnus wouldn’t let his daughters make a fool out of their family. It was this and that, and how Melania Black would roll over in her grave if she saw how Sirius disrespected them.

“This wouldn’t have happened if you’d listened to me,” his mother’s voice trembled. “I told you to send him to Durmstrang, but you refused! You do nothing to control him!”

“And you think you do? What good are your empty threats? No matter how much you scream, he still makes a fool out of you. My mother would have already reigned him in with the Cruciatus curse.”

“Thank Merlin that she’s dead!”

Sirius strained his ears to hear the voices as they grew quieter, but luck had never once favored him, and this time was no different. His father once told him that a Black made his own luck but unfortunately for him, Sirius was a mediocre potioneer compared to the likes of Evans or even Snivellus for that matter. It didn’t matter how much he studied; he’d never be able to match their almost natural skill at potion-making. So, brewing Felix Felicis was out of the question. Then again, what was all this money for then? If Sirius couldn’t brew it in his lifetime then he’d hire someone else to do it for him. He bet that even Snivellus with those faded clothes of his would jump at the prospect of some galleons. Hunger had definitely clouded his judgement more than he thought, or why the hell would he consider hiring Snivellus, who in all honesty would probably poison him.

More time passed, and he didn’t even know how much at this point. It could be ten minutes, or an hour, perhaps even a day. All Sirius knew was that it’d be another two days before he was put out of his misery. So, he did the only thing he could, Sirius gave up and curled up onto his side. All he could do now as drift off into sleep and hopefully wake up on the last day of his punishment. Deep down, Sirius knew he wouldn’t die from the experience, but it was uncomfortable, nevertheless. Clenching his eyes shut, he let his mind wander to happier times – James grinning at him from across the room in detention, and Remus muffling a snort much to the chagrin of Madam Pince, and Peter stuffing his face at the Halloween feast.

Then suddenly in one quick fluid motion, the door swung wide open. The door hit the wall with a loud bang, and he winced as his head throbbed once more. Sirius looked up to see his father towering over him with a smile that he could describe as viciously smug. That was the smile of a man who knew nothing of compassion. By that point, however, he didn’t even have any energy to glare at his father.

“What did I say, Walburga?” His smile twisted even further, and it took everything Sirius had in him to not flinch at his father’s approach. Orion Black knelt down and with a not so gentle touch, he ran his fingers through Sirius’s dirty knotted hair. “Disgusting. You see, everything’s fine. The little whelp was sleeping on the floor. He must have picked up that nasty habit with all those mudbloods.”

* * *

**25 June 1975**

**St. Mungo’s Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries (Fourth Floor)**

Pure dread was the only way that Sirius could describe what was creeping up his spine. Upon waking, the first thing he noticed was the uncontrollable shaking in his hands. The tremors only grew more violent as he tried to pull himself up from the hospital bed. Not only that, but his entire body ached like he’d been whacked silly by the Whomping Willow. Was this how Davey Gudgeon had felt? Now, Sirius regretted taunting him after the boy nearly lost his eye. Perhaps, this was some sort of divine punishment for always going after Snivellus, or Gudgeon and all those other nameless students he didn’t bother to remember.

Though, in retrospect, it could be far worse. He was still alive, after all. That couldn’t be said for every poor sap dosed with a defective love potion. He could finally see clearly again, and it seemed like Sirius still had all his organs intact. Well, not that he had much experience with missing an organ in the first place.

He leaned back and took in his surroundings, the washed-out blue walls, scratchy starched sheets, and a pot of wilting lilies by his side. Sirius wondered who’d brought the flowers, it surely hadn’t been his family if his memory served him right. They weren’t the sentimental type, and besides his father certainly blamed him for the incident. As he sat there deep in thought, it all came back to him – slowly at first, but then it hit him with such force that bile crawled up his throat.

Lily Evans. Snivellus. A cleverly hidden love potion. Public humiliation not just in front of his classmates, but the entire English wizarding world.

What an utter mess! There went any chance of spending the summer with James. However, the worst part of it all was that the culprit could be anyone from someone close to him like Marlene McKinnon to a complete stranger like that heavy-set Slytherin girl who stared at him in Transfiguration. At the end of the day, it didn’t matter who had done the dirty deed. What mattered now was that whoever had done this to him was not only a conniving hag (that he’d gladly hex into oblivion) but also an idiot for failing to do it right.

While he'd been drifting in-and-out of consciousness, Sirius had spoken to a mousy square-jawed woman by the name of Healer Braxton. She'd met his confused glance head-on when giving him his diagnosis. The love potion had failed spectacularly and in her decade of experience, she'd never seen a love potion so badly brewed that it required immediate hospitalization. Not only did it nearly take his kidney out, but it had almost killed him. Had his treatment been delayed for another ten minutes, then he wouldn’t be here stewing in his own misery.

From what he could gather, his mind in a last-ditch attempt to retain some sanity had hand-selected his target of affection. Though in all seriousness, he would have never pegged Lily Evans as his first and only choice. Picking Evans had stumped him, their mutual dislike for one another was palpable, and it was so obvious to anyone with a brain (minus James) that the two would never get along. But considering how often he listened to James go on and on about her, maybe it wasn’t that shocking after all.

Frankly speaking, Sirius didn’t like her in the slightest, but at least it comforted him to know that out of all the girls who could’ve almost killed him with a botched love potion, Lily Evans was most decidedly not that person. The redhead was a mini-Slughorn in the making, so if Evans had truly wanted to enslave his mind then she would have done it right the first time. None of this “excessive amounts of pearl dust” nonsense.

What also gave it away as the look of abject horror on her face when he’d knelt to profess his eternal love for her. All he could remember were her green eyes burning with something akin to anger and the slightest hint of worry. As for what happened next, he couldn’t say for sure because he’d lost consciousness and smacked his face against the pavement with a loud splat. He could already feel the bruise begin to form on his cheek, and the skin around his eyes stung whenever he lightly touched it. Why they hadn’t given him Bruisewort Balm yet was beyond him.

Though all things considered, it had to be his mother’s doing. He needed a reminder of what he’d done lest Sirius forget it by the time the hag finished concocting whatever cruel punishment she deemed fit this time. And what served better as a reminder than actual physical pain? Maybe she’d get around to using the Cruciatus curse as she’d promised to do over Yuletide and the summer before that.

Or worse, maybe she’d lock him away again. The very thought of spending his entire summer holiday in his room sent a wave of terror down his back. Though horrid as it was, it didn’t even break the top five for all-time worst memories. In all fairness, not all his memories of his family were terrible, but certain ones haunted him. They were so harrowing that he rarely spoke of them, not even to James who he’d shared a bed with during their second year after Sirius suffered from a grisly bout of nightmares.

Life without James would truly be miserable. Sirius would be even more miserable than he was at the moment, and that was quite telling since he had nearly croaked two hours ago. As he stared ahead, the question suddenly popped into his mind, where was James? He had to be around here somewhere; it just wouldn’t be a near-death experience without James anxiously pacing back-and-forth with his hand running through his already unruly hair. He’d worry himself sick like he did every full moon with Remus. No matter what Evans claimed, the nobility of James Potter knew no bounds. On the other hand, his mother with all her talk of honor had none to speak of, and if she did then it had died long before he’d even been born. Watching people suffer was one of the many pleasures she took out of life.

Sirius closed his eyes for what seemed like a minute but when he opened them again, an unexpected visitor sat at the foot of his bed. It took a moment for the younger boy to notice him and then with a frown, he said, “Do tell, Sirius, how do you manage to get yourself out of these messes?”

When did he get here? Sitting with the effortless grace only a Black could possess, his brother watched him with an almost unreadable expression. On any other day, he’d find it amusing how Regulus was still intimidated to be alone with him. Just like their father, you had to know Regulus to see past the mask he’d perfected under the watchful eye of their mother. Whenever he felt skittish, Regulus would fiddle with his ring, it was subtle enough that a stranger wouldn’t notice but Sirius knew him better than anyone else. There was also the fact that Regulus never met his stare. One would think that being a filthy blood traitor was contagious with how much Regulus avoided him.

“So, I’m not dead?” Sirius asked. “What a shame, and here I thought I was dead.”

His brother’s face fell almost instantly, confusion knitted into his furrowed eyebrows. “What are you going on about?” He paused as if contemplating the situation before him. “Do you know I am? Do you know who you are?”

Now, it was Sirius’s turn to be confused. What did he mean by that?

“Do I know who you are?” Sirius repeated back dumbly. “What’s that supposed to mean? Of course, I know who you are… you’re my wittle baby brother. The same little brother who hasn’t spoken more than three words to me in what? Eight months, if I’m counting right.”

Sirius continued with a toothy grin. “Were you worried about me? I never took you as sentimental yet here you are by my deathbed. Here I was, devastated but happy at having reunited with my brother, only to find out that I’m not dead. It’d be like the ending to one of those Muggle films.”

“You really want to die? I’d be more than happy to fulfill your wish.”

“You need a spine to be able to do that,” Sirius leaned forward with an even wider grin. “So, tell me, why are you here?” At that, his brother stood abruptly and turned away from him. “Wait! Where are you going?”

“To let mother know you aren’t brain dead at least not any more than usual. You see, _big_ _brother_ , there was concern that the love potion would… how should I put it? That it would leave you in a “perpetual state of confusion” if I’m quoting Healer Braxton right. You’d be unable to tell the difference between reality and what was in your head, but like always, you weaseled your way out of trouble. What a shame considering they’d already set up your room in Janus Thickey’s ward.”

“So, you were worried!”

“I just told you, you could’ve been left brain dead and that’s all you have to say?” His brother seemed aghast at Sirius’s indifference. “Contrary to what you might believe, I don’t hate you. No matter how much you run around with Potter; you’re still my brother and after all is said and done, blood is thicker than water.”

Regulus paused. “Besides, I overheard mother’s plan for you. It wouldn’t have fixed your broken mind, but I suppose a living puppet is better than nothing. An actual human puppet, devoid of any free will. Not even I would wish that on you.”

“Come again?” Sirius paled and felt a cold sweat break out on his forehead. This was exactly the reason he didn’t like spending time with his family. You never knew when one of them was dredging up illegal dark rituals.

“She couldn’t let you become an invalid at the ripe age of fifteen. Just imagine the gossip, I bet it would even make the Prophet,” Regulus said with a grin as if in on a joke. “Try not to move too much, and you know what? If I were you, I’d behave a little more.”

His brother turned to leave, and there was a spring in his step. Disturbing, to say the least, but not completely unexpected. Another year in Slytherin had made his brother just a tad cattier, but he was still the same snot-nosed brat he was last year. Nothing would change that, so why should Sirius let it bother him?

“If I was a Potter, where would I be?” Sirius mumbled to himself. Determination filled him with newfound strength, and he waited what seemed like half an hour before wrenching the sheets off of him. With a groan, he swung his legs over the side of the bed but froze still when he heard shuffling outside his door.

It could be Regulus or worse their mother. The noise faded away and Sirius tensed in anticipation as he inched his way closer to the edge. He’d never been the type of person to stay still and wait to see what happened, and these circumstances were no different. What he needed to do was find James and tell him… tell him what? That he wasn’t dead, nor was he dying anytime soon? The only thing he knew for a fact was that he needed to explain the Evans incident. Where to begin? Well, he wasn’t in his right mind when he’d knelt at the platform. Evans was tolerable at best, a necessary pest in his life. She was far better than the throng of girls that followed them around, but not by much if you asked him.

He stood up and the world began to spin again. The burning in his chest intensified as he wobbled forward and took his first step. Just one step at a time. _Conquer and persevere as you’ve always done. This can’t be any worse than falling off your broom._ The door was so close, yet so far that it felt like an eternity for Sirius to reach the door handle. With a gasp, he gripped it tightly. He just needed that last burst of energy, and he’d be free and out of reach from his mother’s claws.

He steadied himself before turning the handle. _Slowly, now_. Sirius propped the door open, pushing it with one arm while the other wrapped around his aching midriff. It was wide enough for him to stick his head out and glance out into the hallway. He hadn’t come this far for some Healer to send him back to bed.

Holding his breath, he stepped outside with a grin. _See that wasn’t too hard._

As soon as he thought those words, Sirius tumbled to the floor. This time around, he couldn’t find the strength to get back up. _Sirius, you aren’t invincible. Stop being stupid._ Just what he needed, a grumpy Remus to remind him of the obvious.

He leaned back against the wall and sunk further down until he was nearly laying on the ground. If he was going to be stuck out there, then at least he would do it comfortably. Sirius looked around, hoping to see a Healer turn the corner, but no one came. Sirius snorted to himself as he thought of the poor soul who’d have the misfortune of coming across him. With how pale he likely was, Sirius bet the entire Black fortune that he looked like a corpse. A handsome corpse at least. Then again, he shouldn’t encourage that kind of thinking, you never knew where a necrophiliac was lurking about.

With nothing else to do, he looked up at the ceiling. Wonderful, he could count tiles until someone stumbled across his sprawled-out body.

_Sixty. Sixty-one. Sixty-two. Sixty-three. Sixty-four. Sixty-five. Sixty-six. Sixty-seven. Sixty-eight. Sixty-nine. Seventy. That’s not right. Start over. One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six._

“What are you doing?”

“Just lying here,” Sirius peered up, but the bright fluorescent light blinded him from seeing anything but a shadowy figure. “You know, the usual.”

The figure sighed and it echoed through the empty hallway. “We can’t leave you alone. You’re like a child who needs constant supervision.” _Oh_ , Sirius knew that voice. He knew that voice very well. “Get up. This isn’t a game.” 

“You think I like lying on the floor? It’s dirty.”

His father knelt to look at him, and if it weren’t for how dizzy Sirius felt, he would have tried to avoid the hand that reached out to grab him. His father was treating him like an aggravated dragon that would attack at the smallest provocation. “What a pleasant surprise,” his father said softly. “I thought you enjoyed lying on the floor like some common tramp.”

His hand brushed up against the bruise on Sirius’s cheek. “Did you fall?”

“I didn’t do it on purpose,” Sirius said angrily. Like all things in life, there’s a limit. There’s a limit on how much firewhiskey a man should drink in a day. There’s a limit on how many times James could ask Evans out without having a curse flung into his face. This was no different, there was a limit on how long Sirius could be in his family’s presence without starting a fight. Arguing came to him almost as naturally as quidditch did, which surely meant he’d inherited from one of them. If he had to guess, it’d be his mother who never passed on a confrontation, especially if it was Aunt Lucretia. That woman was the only other person (besides him) that could rile his mother up to the point where she needed to go lie down. But just like the rest of them, Lucretia Black was mad. The last time he’d seen her was last summer when she’d gone on for an entire day about his mother’s time as a duelist. She had the temper for it, but Sirius doubted that it was true. However, one never knew when Aunt Lucretia was telling the truth. Most of her tales drove his mother insane, which was why Aunt Lucretia was his favorite relative beside Uncle Alphard.

“Don’t be impertinent, boy.” The man said with no actual force. If anything, he sounded exasperated as if he was dealing with an unruly child. Grey eyes watched him as if expecting Sirius to flee right there and then. “Must we have a repeat of last year?”

“Are you going to help me up?” Sirius spat at him. Shit, he didn’t mean to sound so hostile. “Did you come to bask in my misery? Forgive me, but I’m not exactly in the mood for whatever this is.”

His father’s lordship ring grazed his forehead and without even thinking, Sirius flinched and hit his head against the wall. At this, his father let out what sounded like a soft chuckle, but Sirius could never be too sure with him. “Do you think me so callous that I would hit you?”

Without missing a beat, Sirius replied. “Yes.”

“Honesty does not suit you,” his father said coolly. “I’m not a savage or a _Muggle_. I wouldn’t have to resort to such primitive methods. Besides, you nearly lost your life today. And if I did anything of the sort, your mother would throw a fit.” 

“So, if I hadn’t nearly died,” Sirius snarled. “You would? How fucking kind of you.”

His father’s eyes turned colder, they looked like death. “Now, boy, what did we say about your language?” A hand grabbed Sirius’s chin roughly. “Do you enjoy being punished? I see no other reason for you to antagonize us at every turn. Every year, you come back worse, and I’m beginning to think you do it for your mother’s attention. If that’s not it, then why else would you continue to act like a fool? Even a dog has more sense than you.”

With a grim smile, he continued. “If I truly wanted to keep you at heel, I would have done so long ago. We both know the only thing keeping me from doing so is your mother. You wouldn’t last a day without her.”

“You must…”

“Go cry to your mother,” his father sighed. “We all know that’s what you do best.”

The audacity of that man baffled him. Sure, it was true that at one point in his life, Sirius’s mother had been protective of him. There was the time that his father had nearly flailed him for letting Regulus take his toy broom for a ride. How was it his fault that Regulus did the only thing he wasn’t supposed to do? Let go and split his head open. If anyone was at fault, it was their governess’s fault for not watching them. But did it matter what he thought? It didn’t back then, and it evidently didn’t matter now.

That day was like a fever dream he hoped to forget. His father had whipped his wand out with a scowl before his mother swooped in with the precision of a lady. She took six-year-old Sirius into her arms and let out a scream. “Are you mad?” For once, her fury had not been directed at him. So, he milked it for all it had – he’d buried his head into her shoulder, letting his mother’s comforting scent wash over him.

It was a pathetic memory and truthfully that’s all it was, just a memory. There was no time turner to go back and relive his semi-normal childhood. Then again, that was being generous, in no way was his childhood normal. Unless somehow being a bigot was something every child had to learn at home, only to then unlearn because they realized that was absolutely ridiculous and pointless. Hating someone for being a half-blood, or a Muggleborn never made any sense to him even as a child. Sirius’s moment of clarity had cost him a brother, and a cousin, and another (albeit unstable) cousin, and even his own mother. All he had now was James, Remus, and Peter. The green light at the end of the dock, the unwavering faith that things would get better eventually. How utterly poetic of him. Another thing that Orion Black was right about, those Muggle books had made him an emotional sap.

“I don’t cry to her…” exhaustion was creeping up on him but he refused to sleep until he disproved his father’s statement. First of all, he didn’t cry behind his mother, it happened once and that’s all it took for his father bequeath him the title of mummy’s boy. He wasn’t Peter for Merlin’s sake! And he definitely wasn’t Regulus! If anyone needed a lecture, it was Regulus, icky little Reggiekins who still went crying to their mother at the slightest inconvenience. Anything could set his little brother off. Whether it be a brilliant prank – sending a cloud of rain to follow Snivellus around – meticulously planned by him and James, or a quick snog with a Muggleborn witch in the Three Broomsticks, it all ended with a letter to their mother. Almost hitting Regulus with a bludger during a match resulted in not just a letter (which he’d burned in the fireplace) but also a howler. He’d made the mistake of believing it was just another letter, and it all happened so quickly that he didn’t have time to process it. One moment, he was scarfing down breakfast and the next, he was running out of the Great Hall as fast as his legs could carry him. While he ran to save his dignity, Regulus sat with a huge grin on his face at the Slytherin table.

“Please continue.”

“You’re such a hypocrite,” he mumbled. Sirius was tired, so very tired, and his eyelids fluttered as he struggled to stay awake. He was fighting a losing war and that was made evident by how blurry his father had become. “You want a real mummy’s boy? Look no further than Reggiekins.”

Sirius closed his eyes for the third time that day. “Un-fucking-believable.”

“Go to sleep.” His father ordered, and so he did. As he drifted back into a deep sleep, Sirius thought he heard his father say something, but he wasn’t sure, and he really didn’t care either. Sirius had said his piece and that was enough. No one could call him a mummy’s boy while Regulus was skulking around the corner.

“You think I don’t know about Regulus. Little princes who hide behind their mother's skirt. If only my mother was alive to see what our family has become."


	3. lost

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yup, i have no excuses. enjoy.

29 June 1975

12 Grimmauld Place

**_TWELVE DEAD IN LONDON, DOZENS WOUNDED IN ATTACK. AUTHORITIES STUMPED._ **

_In a shocking turn of events, Minister Jenkins calls for stricter border restrictions… has issued a warrant for Italian national accused of aiding suspected attacker… American MACUSA President under diplomatic pressure after refusing to uphold extradition treaty…_

Leaning slightly forward, Sirius squinted to read the rest of the paper detailing yet another attack carried out by werewolves… or was it, vampires this time? From this distance, it was anyone’s guess. Although infrequent, those headlines still left a bitter taste in his mouth. It just didn’t make any sense. An attack there, another over here. There was no discernable pattern to pick at and analyze for some meaning. It was just senseless murder. Even worse was that it had become increasingly clear over the past few weeks that no one in the Ministry had a single clue what to do with the inconvenient truth that killers were hiding among them. At first, it had started as a rumor whispered in the back of pubs, but it finally reached his ears after an attack on an Unspeakable. How was it possible for these people to disappear without a trace every time the Aurors were dispatched?

And all the Wizengamot seemed to do these days was argue whether the attackers were Grindelwald fanatics overlooked during the mass arrests in the 50s or some disgruntled werewolves. They preferred the latter, and so did the Minister who announced that some poor ministry worker had been killed in the chaos, and though tragic, it was just another case of being in the wrong place at the wrong time. All was not well, but Sirius would never know it in Grimmauld Place. His family continued on with their lives as if none of it mattered. 

“—Hmmm.” The creases around Aunt Lucretia’s eyes deepened as she flipped through the pages with more vigor than Sirius had seen from her in a long time. With one final sigh, she crumpled the paper and tossed it aside without even the slightest sense of decorum. Though she remained as silent as the dead, his mother’s judgement rang loud and clear even to Sirius, who sat across from her. What was it that clued him in? The scowl gracing her lips (a telltale sign he’d grown familiar with over the years) or was it the almost undetectable twitch of her left eye when Aunt Lucretia let out another groan.

“Finished, are we now?” His mother said dryly and beckoned Kreacher forward with a lazy twirl of her hand. The house-elf needed no more instruction before ridding the crumpled pages scattered across the floor with a quick snap of his fingers. “That was hardly necessary. Orion met with him shortly after Sirius was discharged. You know how diligent your brother is with these types of matters.”

“Did he now?” Aunt Lucretia arched her eyebrow. “Whatever for? Does Orion truly believe that senile wart has the gall to publish anything about our family after that little incident with the Malfoys? Unless… you don’t think that—”

“It’s too early to say, but only a fool would bite the hand that feeds him. Hutchins ought to have realized by now that he wouldn’t be employed, much less Chief Editor had it not been for my father’s generosity.”

“Here, I thought he’d last another year at least.”

Nodding her head in agreement, his mother kept her composure. “It is only a matter of time before he’s ousted. The Wizengamot has been most displeased with how those marches were covered. I’m told the old man’s even lost Crouch’s favor.”

“You don’t say!” Aunt Lucretia gave a conspiratorial smile. “I thought Crouch had lost his touch. Have you told Druella yet? She’s rather fond of Hutchins, you know.”

With a scoff, his mother remarked, “Cygnus will inform her in due time. I doubt your brother will be too pleased with another bout of her hysterics.” 

“I, for one, quite enjoy her hysterics.” Aunt Lucretia let out a hearty cackle. “I don’t think she’ll kick up a tantrum this time around. Have you not heard about what happened with the Vaughn girl? It is all anyone can talk about.”

“Who? I don’t believe I know anyone by that name?”

“How cruel of you, Burgie. Was it not last summer our dear Cissy nearly cursed her hand off for trying to snatch Lucius from right underneath her?”

His mother’s lips twitched. “As I recall, she nearly lost her head.”

With a pursed smile, his mother visibly puffed up in pride at Narcissa’s homicidal rage. It didn’t come as a surprise to him that Narcissa had nearly maimed someone; it was just another instance of a Black losing their temper, after all. Stifling a snort behind his hand, Sirius’s eyes met those of his mother. Though he had yet to utter a single word that day, it appeared that his mother had already had enough of his antics. Pushing her any further would simply result in another one of their hour-long screaming matches. If that was the case, Sirius hoped that his mother would at least have the decency to wait until Aunt Lucretia left. He didn’t want a repeat of last year. It was bad enough that Uncle Cygnus and Alphard had borne witness to his mother throwing a fit over him piercing his ears, but who could forget the murderous scowl on his father’s face as Aunt Druella wailed on about ungrateful children and how they would be the death of them all. Family reunions were just the best.

“When I heard she ran off, I didn’t think much of it. I mean, who could blame her? If I had a mother like that, I would not dare show my face in public. She was missing for a week until that awful Goyle woman saw her in Vienna not a week after the engagement was broken—”

“How riveting.” His mother interrupted, seemingly unamused by Aunt Lucretia’s antics. Then again, when was the last time Sirius had ever seen her laugh? Not in his lifetime at least.

“Listen to me—” Aunt Lucretia teetered with excitement. “They said it was a mutual separation, but no one was stupid enough to believe that. You think Nott would go through all that trouble for them to break off the engagement.” She lowered her voice. “The truth is that the girl eloped with some muggle!” 

“A muggle?” That caught his mother’s attention.

“It was a scandal waiting to happen when they sent her away.”

“I expected nothing less from a family like that,” his mother said stiffly. “What’s odd is how desperate Nott was for them to wed. Were they truly so desperate they’d stoop to such filth? Eight squibs in less than two generations. That alone should have served as sufficient warning to their pedigree.” Then sniffing, she added, “one does not make a wife out of the ill-bred.”

Pedigree was such an ugly word, yet those three syllables defined him. It was all about upholding the pride of dead ancestors who turned in their graves every time he breathed. Every action he took was dictated by that vile word. His mother wasn’t fooling anyone, much less Sirius with all her talk of pedigree and blood status. All it did was bring them one step closer to madness. One wrong move and they’d fall over the edge just like House Gaunt. Which pureblood family hadn’t heard of that walking, talking disaster? The last heir locked up in Azkaban, disgraced, penniless, and so unremarkable that no one could quite remember his name.

For all their blood superiority, the demise of the Gaunt line ended on page ten, buried under stories about the muggle war. Even his mother, a fresh-faced debutante when the scandal broke, looked down upon them with such disdain that one would think they were blood traitors. They were so utterly pathetic and useless that they couldn’t even die out with some sort of macabre dignity.

“His son is not much to look at,” Aunt Lucretia droned on. “He is not even pleasant to be around. Ghastly boy, if you ask me. It would not surprise me in the least if that girl was Nott’s only option. Merlin knows all the good ones are being snatched up. Besides, who would want to be married off to such a brute?”

“Is that so,” his mother said softly, a contemplative look on her face. “He could have waited for a better prospect. Isn’t the Greengrass girl due to debut this year?”

“She is set to be the most promising one this season,” Aunt Lucretia said with a mischievous glint in her eye. “It would be a shame for her to be wasted on the likes of Nott.”

“What about the Carrow girl? I am told she is yet to make a match.”

“Poor thing came out four years ago. No one’s called on her yet, and I doubt that—”

The conversation bore on, and it was suffocating, to say the least. It felt even more uncomfortable than those early morning practices that had Sirius clinging onto his broom with nearly frozen fingers. He fiddled with a loose thread dangling from his sleeve, silently hoping that they’d spare him of another hour of utter boredom. The stiffness of his collar only worsened the growing pit in his stomach as Sirius watched them nibble on pastries. These robes, though elegant, were outdated and much to his displeasure, one of the many ways that his mother asserted her authority over him.

“I daresay this an opportune moment for all of us.”

Drifting off to thoughts of his friends and the mischief that awaited him come September, Sirius only half-listened to his mother’s cold voice.

“Who told you that?”

How long would it take Filch to find all their stashed dungbombs? Between the four of them, they had more than enough for the entire castle. Not even Evans could resist smiling after witnessing a particularly loathsome sixth-year Slytherin flee the bathroom with one hand pulling his trousers up while the other plugged his nose. That had landed them in detention for nearly a month, but it was worth seeing them push and tug at each other to get out. Speaking of Evans, would she finally crack this year? He wholly doubted it, but there was only so much Sirius could withstand hearing about how green her eyes were without wanting to bash his head into the nearest rock.

“Do you expect to find a better match somewhere else? I don’t know why you’re so resistant—”

Remus would probably send word as soon as that shiny prefect badge landed in his lap. Sirius could imagine it now – the lanky mousy-haired boy showing up to the platform with a shy smile that would soon turn to gloating as soon as he laid his eyes on Sirius. He’d lean toward him and announce how this year he wasn’t going to let Sirius and James run wild, but like always, Remus would never keep his promise.

“I’m well aware of our options, Lucretia. You think I don’t know how often that woman—”

What would James think if Sirius let his hair grow out like Brian May? A bold stylistic choice for sure, but it couldn’t be any worse than that messy mop that James insisted on calling hair. An added benefit would be watching his father fret over it. He would put on a façade at first as if it didn’t bother him in the slightest, but he would gradually lose that fight.

“I admit the woman is insufferable, but her daughter would be perfect for—”

Then there was the second week of October to consider, the inevitability of Peter trying out and failing to make the team for the fourth year in a row. Sirius wanted his friend to succeed, truly, but it was exhausting having to cheer up Peter while he moped around. The stout boy simply didn’t have the skill to play Quidditch. He had nearly been knocked off his broom last time by some tiny second-year girl. Peter already struggled to stay upright on the ground, yet the boy insisted that making the team was the first step in his ingenious plan to get a girlfriend. 

“Listen, you have until Yuletide to decide. If you don’t act by then, the vassals will—”

“Is that a threat I hear? I have underestimated their stupidity.”

What was it with his friends obsessing over girls? Even Remus had spent the last few weeks of school penning love poems to some older Ravenclaw he’d met in the library. Girls were more trouble than they were worth. Well, at least, the ones chasing after him with their love potions and heartfelt sentiments all wrapped up with a shiny bow.

“Walburga, they are desperate. They have even suggested an American for Merlin’s sake—”

“You are not serious, are you?”

He could not forget about MacDonald either. That relationship had been doomed from the start, and Sirius should have known better than to drag her along for months. The dreadful truth was that he had first sought her out as a way to enrage his mother. It had been after a particularly awful fight that Sirius had put his foot down. No more talk about Cassandra Selwyn, the gap-toothed, portly ten-year-old that his mother had considered for the title of his future bride. MacDonald deserved better than that, but he had been so willfully ignorant that Sirius had missed the obvious. They just were not compatible as anything more than friends. Maybe he could make it up to her, but Sirius sorely doubted that Mary was eager to speak to him again.

“Even Alphard agrees… they already think there is something wrong with—"

Snapping him out of his half-asleep stupor, his mother hissed. “I’ll have you know that I hardly care what my dim-witted brothers think. Orion and I will decide on one very soon, and you will be informed as will the vassals.”

“We just want the best for our family.” Aunt Lucretia stared ahead as if in deep thought before finally offering up a quasi-smile that did not reach her eyes. “You have until Yuletide, Walburga. Not a second more.” She hesitated as if unsure of herself, and Sirius braced himself as Aunt Lucretia’s glance turned toward him. “Your grandfather will summon you very soon. He’s been rather grouchy lately, so do try to behave.”

With another half-hearted grin, Aunt Lucretia slowly rose to her feet. Whatever she had come to accomplish had failed so spectacularly that not even the usually boorish woman dared to argue any further. “I suppose I will see you at the wedding then.” She eyed him again. “Don’t forget to pack him some new clothes. I’m told the Americans are rather picky about all that. Some rubbish about assimilating with the muggles.”

A wedding? Sirius hadn’t been told anything about that. Typical. He didn't even the energy to be annoyed anymore. 

“How kind of them.” His mother said, stone-faced. “I look forward to seeing your husband again. How long has it been this time? Two years?”

“Do not get me started!” Aunt Lucretia bemoaned. “The end of a five-hundred-year-old blood feud and that ridiculous man says he would rather spend the rest of the summer with his niece and her little band of miscreants.”

“They have two boys, don't they?”

“And trying for another,” Aunt Lucretia sneered. “You should see how they live! It is utterly appalling! There are mice everywhere. I cannot believe I spent all that time helping her find a respectable husband, and who does she choose? Arthur Weasley! The last thing this world needs is more Weasley blood.”

* * *

13 July 1975

Unknown

Sirius had spent the last two weeks in his room, debating whether he should run away and lie low in some muggle village until his family was out of the country, but that presented too many logistical problems. First of all, he didn’t have any muggle money, and it was too risky to go to James’s as that was the first place his mother would look. Well, it didn’t matter in the end because his mother had ordered Kreacher to keep an eye on him. Wherever he turned, that nasty house-elf was there mumbling to himself. Their first mistake was sending that dreadful creature ahead with the rest of the Black clan. Now here they were lost in a forest that seemed to indefinitely stretch on in every direction. 

With a new set of black robes, polished shoes, and more product in his hair than ever before, Sirius trekked further along the path, watching his father stop and glance around as if he would somehow recognize their surroundings. For all he knew, they were on the wrong side of the world. Sirius’s eyes darted back-and-forth from the radiant sunshine that cast itself over the tops of the trees, shrouding the leaves in a green-golden luminesce, to his mother stumbling ahead with her hand wrapped tightly around Regulus’s bony arm. Even for the normally, pale boy, Regulus looked rather peaky, and Sirius didn’t know whether that had to do with his nerves or the series of portkeys that had brought them to the middle of nowhere.

“Orion, we’re lost,” his mother scowled, lifting her muddied skirt as they traipsed through a thick section of brush. “I knew we should have gone with your sister.”

“My sister doesn’t know her left from her right,” his father snapped back. “If I’m right, there should be another portkey just ahead.”

Trudging forward, they walked closer to the spot his father had indicated, but by then, it had become clear that there was no portkey or sign of civilization, for that matter. It had been hours since they had started walking, and they were nowhere closer to finding their way out. These woods reminded him of the Forbidden Forest with its eerie silence that seemed to follow him. Sirius just couldn’t shake that sinking feeling in his gut as they began to ramble up an incline that took them past a wide, mossy boulder. His father clearly shared the same sentiment, seeing as the older man’s hand hovered over the pocket where he kept his wand. There was no way that Orion Black would let them die here. At least, not without a fight. For that, Sirius was grateful, but it was still his father’s fault for bringing them there. The allure of acquiring a newly patented brewing method had been too strong for his father, who had brought them all here with the sole purpose of wooing the inventor. Had it not been for his father’s greed, Sirius could have been at home sleeping in his bed at this very moment. A much better alternative to listening to Regulus moan about the holes in his new azure blue robes.

“Any more brilliant ideas?” His mother asked with distaste, unsuccessfully pushing strands of loose hair back into the braided updo that had taken her more than an hour to do. “Look at us,” she lamented to no one in particular. “Our new robes are ruined.” 

“Mother, I’m sure Mr. Graves won’t mind letting us freshen up before the banquet,” Regulus said, his tone casual enough to express his own displeasure at the situation while still holding a semblance of calm for the sake of their mother.

“What about our luggage?” She exclaimed loudly; it echoed against the forest floor.

“I doubt anyone would want to steal your robes,” Sirius muttered, feeling even more despondent as the path grew rockier. “Perhaps, they’ll do us a favor and toss them out.”

That earned him a sharp glare from his father, who now stood on the edge of a beaten, dirt trail that slithered downwards in the direction of a gurgling creek. Sirius joined his father and looked out to the horizon, feeling the cool breeze brush up against his sweaty, flushed face. His stomach turned as a sudden wave of fatigue hit him; Sirius staggered forward onto a patch of weeds underneath a large tree. As his hands touched the damp, cold ground, Sirius let out a groan as he felt another sharp pain in his abdomen. He did not know whether it was hunger, anxiety, frustration, or a mixture of all three. He clung onto the gnarled roots of the tree, deeply breathing in and out as drops of dew fell onto him from the tangled branches above. He closed his eyes and took another deep breath – an earthy scent of pine and wet dirt filled his lungs, but it did little to alleviate the tightening of his chest.

Sirius listened to the crisp snap of a twig underneath his father’s dragon-hide boot. “We need to turn back,” his father declared. “It will take us at least an hour to get back to the last portkey.”

“Another hour?” Sirius heard his mother gasp. “It is nearly dark. Will you have us wandering around all night to find it?

“What would you have us do then?”

“Why don’t you summon—”

“I would if I could—”

While the two continued to argue, Sirius stumbled to his feet and once more looked out to the red-and-orange horizon The sun had nearly set, it would grow dark soon, and though turning back was their only option, it did not seem very hopeful. For the briefest moment, he felt a strong urge to run down that dirt path and keep running until he found a spot where he could rest his head and drift off to the soothing whispers of the woods. He was brought back to his senses by Regulus’s whining about his blistered feet. With an exasperated huff, Sirius turned back to the noises around them – the wind blowing past him, the rustling of leaves, the gentle bubbling of the creek, and a soft, mellow voice swelling with a wave of emotion.

_Can I sail through the changing ocean tides?_

Sirius blinked once and then again when no one else seemed to notice. Did he imagine it?

_Well, I’ve been afraid of changing ‘cause I’ve built my life around you._

As soon as the insouciant voice began the next note, he took off with a leap down the path and ignored the shouts coming from behind him. He tore down the trail with sharp, painful breaths, and as he turned past the final curve, an open meadow filled to the brim with vibrant pink, yellow, and purple wildflowers came into view. His feet clambered to a stop right as a tall, dark-haired girl in a white blouse and red bell-bottom pants called out, “Georgie, don’t forget to pick the purple ones!"

Sirius watched, breathless, as another girl emerged from the field with a basket full of flowers. This one wore a moss-colored dress with large pockets and a matching belt tied around her waist. Just like the other girl, she had long dark hair tied back with a white ribbon. “Did you find all of them?” This new girl asked. “I don’t want to come back tomorrow. Make sure that Georgina doesn’t forget about—"

“I just reminded her,” the taller one said. “I think we have all of them anyway.”

The other one nodded appreciatively before calling out again, “Georgie, hurry up! We’re leaving you here if you’re not done in the next minute.”

There was more rustling and out of a bush came out a young girl, red-faced and covered in dirt. “Stop playing around, Josie! I’m going to tell mother.”

“You can’t tell mother if we leave you here,” the one with the ribbon cackled. “We’ll tell her that the fairies stole you. Isn’t that right, Theodora?”

“The fairies,” the little one said with a pout. “They don’t live around here.”

“How would you know? You’ve only been up here twice.”

“There are no babies to steal.”

“Not all fairies steal babies,” the girl sang, dancing in circles around her sister. “Besides, if we switched you out for a changeling, I bet mother wouldn’t even notice the difference.”

The taller one, who Sirius assumed to be the oldest sister, watched in amusement as her younger sister crushed a purple flower with her foot and shouted: “No fairies live up here!”

“But they do,” the older one said with a grin, joining in on the fun. “They live up the mountain, waiting until you’ve let your guard down and then…”

She pounced on the younger girl who squealed. “Let me go!”

The young girl squirmed out of her sister’s grasp and ran from them. “Just you wait! I’m telling mother. You won’t be laughing then.”

“Don’t go too far, or the fairies will get you!” The young girl disappeared behind a tree. 

The girls erupted into giggles, and Sirius finally seized the moment to speak. “Excuse me?”

Their heads snapped toward him; the girls stared at him. He had just begun to lose his nerve when the girl in the dress spoke with a hesitant smile. “You lost, friend?”

He spluttered, his breathing still uneven, “as a matter of fact, we are.” 

“We?” The girl inquired, stepping closer to him. Her head barely reached his shoulder.

“Josie!” Her older sister snapped, eyeing him suspiciously.

“My family,” Sirius clarified and pointed toward the trail that he’d just come down. “Up there.”

“You looking for someone?”

“Alexander Graves?” Sirius said, unsure of himself. Would these muggles even know him?

A flash of recognition crossed her face. “You’re not gonna find him here.”

“Is this not New York?”

The older girl began to laugh as if Sirius had said the stupidest thing she had ever heard. “New York,” she gasped. “You’re a long way from New York.”

“Where am I then?” He said rather shortly.

“You’re not in New York; I can tell you that.” She grinned, showing off a row of white straight teeth. “Did you hit your head or something?” 

He could feel his face flush, “California?”

The girl roared in laughter, “He said California! Try again, kid.”

“Theodora, shut it!” The shorter girl frowned, peering up at him. “You do look pale. Those fairies did a number on you. I just hope they didn't obliviate you. Can you remember your name?" 

Just as he was about to introduce himself, the distant echo of his mother’s shrill, loud voice pierced the silence. “Sirius Orion! Where are you?”

“It’s nice to meet you, Sirius Orion.” The girl stuck out her hand, which Sirius reluctantly took. Her hand was soft, a sharp contrast to the mud splattered on her face. Now that he was closer, he could see that someone had mended her dress with several brown patches. “I’m Josephine Lancaster, and you’re about ninety miles away from Denver.”  
  
“Right, Denver,” Sirius said, though he still had no idea where he was.

“I thought you British wizards were supposed to be smart.” The older girl, Theodora, interjected.

“Well, you thought wrong.” Sirius muttered, feeling a sharp pain in his temple. “You know, you’re exactly how I pictured an American.”

“Stunningly beautiful?”

“You read my mind.”


End file.
